


untitled comment!drabble

by i_claudia



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-24
Updated: 2009-02-24
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:00:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_claudia/pseuds/i_claudia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can’t keep himself from admiring the coin, curling his hand around it possessively unless he’s in public and has to hide it in a pouch he nicked from Gaius and hang it around his neck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled comment!drabble

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for gir_fiend's prompt "arthur gives merlin a coin for some reason and he still has it and is turning over in his fingers. shiny coin!" and posted on LJ [here](http://i-claudia.livejournal.com/19873.html?view=134561#t134561) (24 February 2009).

He shouldn’t be playing with the coin, shouldn’t be looking at it or tracing the outline of the raised profile on one side. He shouldn’t even have accepted it in the first place, really – he knows perfectly well that its value is more than most people in Ealdor made in a year, more than many of them have ever even seen in one place. Still, he can’t help but hold it in the palm of his hand, admiring the play of the light across its golden face. He very pointedly does not think about what else catches the sun in a similarly golden fashion and whether or not such things might be attached to the head of a certain prat-faced prince. Those thoughts will only land him in more trouble than he needs to go looking for.

But he can’t keep himself from admiring the coin, curling his hand around it possessively unless he’s in public and has to hide it in a pouch he nicked from Gaius and hang it around his neck.

_“Here,” Arthur said, pushing the coin into his hands and wrapping his fingers around it. It was still warm from Arthur’s body heat, and he clutched at it, too focused on that warmth, on the callused fingers softly scraping along his palm. “I want you to have this.”_

_“Arthur,” he said, unsure, his mind full of the dragon’s words. “I can’t – you can’t just give me –”_

_Arthur’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Take it, Merlin, or I’ll make you eat it.”_

So Merlin had taken it, the only one of its kind so far. It is a conceit Uther has adopted from the old Roman rulers: coins with the face of the ruler staring out at the world severely, reminding everyone of exactly who’s in charge. One day Arthur’s face will stare out from all of them, from every coin in Albion, but for now Merlin has the first, the only, and he keeps it warm against his skin, half-afraid to let it cool for reasons he doesn’t care to dwell on.

He’s in Arthur’s room; he thinks he’s supposed to be picking up a pair of boots to clean but there isn’t a single pair of boots in sight. Instead, he goes to look out the window, wondering if the light up here is any different than the light that comes through into Gaius’ workroom.

It’s not, really, he discovers, and if Gaius could see him now he’d probably purse his lips and crease his forehead and make Merlin feel guilty about something, but there’s no one here except maybe another rat which has obviously run off with Arthur’s boots. Merlin can spare a minute to be a total idiot and imagine what might happen if Arthur were to come in right that minute and say –

“Merlin, what are you doing?”

Merlin jumps, nearly crashes through the glass in the window to the courtyard below, and closes his hand around the coin, hiding it behind his back as he turns to face the prince.

“Looking for your boots,” he says, almost completely truthfully.

Arthur gives a very significant look to the opposite corner of the room, where his boots are sitting quietly, undisturbed by rats. 

“Oh,” says Merlin, but any further commentary is stifled as Arthur crosses the room and stands uncomfortably near.

“Tell me,” Arthur murmurs, and Merlin has to force himself to pay attention because Arthur smells like sweat and metal and summer grass, “why is it I keep you around?”

“Um,” Merlin manages, but now Arthur’s hands are on his and he’s found the coin.

Arthur smiles.

“Studying my noble face?” he teases, and Merlin gives him a look that he hopes conveys exactly what he thinks of _that_ idea. “I have a better idea,” Arthur says, slipping the coin back into Merlin’s pouch, “as I don’t have patrol today.”

Merlin would protest, really, because he’s _just cleaned_ Arthur’s shirt and whenever Arthur gets that look in his eyes Merlin knows it will need cleaning or mending or both, but before he can say a word, Arthur pulls him closer and kisses him. Merlin isn’t used to this yet, still can’t quite think about much beyond the feel of Arthur’s lips on his or the smell of dirt ground into Arthur’s skin from training, so he gives up the shirt as a lost cause and gives in, wrapping his arms around the prince – _his_ prince – and kisses him back.


End file.
